Missing
by spn22
Summary: After an argument between the brothers, Sam disappears without a trace. Dean is sure that Sam wouldn't cut himself off for so long...so where is he? Dean soon learns that there is something much more sinister behind Sam's disappearance and he will do ever
1. Prologue

_Set after the season 2 episode, Houses of the Holy._

_I do not own Supernatural. _

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It had been two nights.

Two nights of no phone calls, texts...Dean had even found himself checking his emails, a rare occurrence.

Nothing.

Dean sighed, resisting the urge to grab a beer. He needed to be clear-headed. He had ignored every other phone call and spent two days driving around Sam's usual haunts and everywhere in between.

It was midnight and Dean had come back to the motel room in the half-hearted hope that Sam had made his way back.

Nothing.

Dean flung himself down on the bed, head in hands.

_Damn it, Sammy. _

He sighed, grabbed his cell, his heart dropping to hear Sam's voice mail once again.

"Sammy...Sam, God damn it, i'm tearing my hair our here...I know we argued but...please man, just let me know you're okay...please."

Dean hung up and reached for his car keys.

He had to get out again.

He had to keep looking, keep driving...stop his mind from going down other areas that he didn't want to venture down.

He wished...he wished a lot of things.

That argument... that friggin' argument...

He would hold his hands up, apologise, take responsibility for it all. If only Sam could give him a chance. They hadn't argued like that for a long time.

Yet Dean knew this wasn't Sam's style. Sure, he could give him the silent treatment for a few hours after a fall-out but a full on disappearing act? He wasn't that selfish.

So where was he?

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_Reviews make me :) _


	2. The argument

**TWO DAYS AGO**

"You seriously pray, Sam?"

Sam glanced at Dean, his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah...I told you I did."

Dean tossed his empty beer bottle from hand to hand. His sixth of the evening.

"Why?" Sam persisted

"What do you mean 'why'?"

"Why does it bother you so much?"

Dean hesitated for a beat too long.

"It doesn't." Dean said finally.

"Then quit asking me about it."

Sam knew he was being irritable. The two had been locked in the cramped motel room all day. Dean was still a wanted man and Sam was trying to limit the amount of times they left the room. Still, it wasn't in a Winchesters nature to be trapped in one place for long and the cracks were most definitely beginning to show. They had had a two-hour argument about what to put on television, which had resorted in Dean threatening to throw the remote out of the motel window whilst Sam had held the same remote aloft while standing on a chair. At this point Dean had threatened that he would throw _Sam _out of the window with the remote if he didn't get down. Not one of their finest moments and Sam had begrudgingly agreed to let Dean watch some tacky soap drama while he sulked in the corner.

"What do you pray about?" Dean knew he was skating on thin ice but boredom had crept in and a part of him wanted another dumb winding up session with his little brother. It passed the time at least. There was also a large part of his brain that was genuinely interested. After all the evil and indescribable things that they had both seen, Dean struggled to see how Sam could get down on his knees and pray to some higher power every night...like it would make a difference. Maybe it just made Sam feel better. If it worked and helped him sleep better at night then good for Sam. In fact, he envied him.

Sam sighed.

"The normal stuff, Dean. I just shut my eyes and think. I ask for help."

"Ah...that's where I've been going wrong all these years. I should have been asking for help...not trying to get the job done myself."

"I ask for help on your behalf, Dean."

A short, awkward silence filled the room. Sam coughed, clearly uncomfortable to have revealed that his brother was in his prayers. Too chick-flick for Dean, he was sure.

"Urm.." Dean cleared his throat. He felt guilty for having mocked Sam's plea for help. He also felt oddly moved at the thought of Sam praying for him. For a second, a warm feeling of affection for his brother overtook him.

"Thanks...I guess."

"No problem." Sam replied quickly, his eyes on the floor.

Dean walked across the room towards the fridge to fill the silence. He swore loudly. Only one bottle left.

"I'm going out, Sam. Nearly out of dizzy water."

"What?" Sam stood up. "Already?"

"Well, y'know, too many hours in a day and not enough beers in a pack. I'll be ten minutes...fifteen at the most."

"No..." Sam walked over to Dean. "No, I'll go."

"Christ, Sam. It's the corner shop."

"You're a _wanted man _Dean. They've probably got wanted posters in the window. Don't be so stupid."

"Listen, man, if I don't get out soon I'm gonna explode. I'll wear shades, alright?"

"At ten o'clock at night? Smart, Dean. Not conspicuous at all."

"I just want a bloody drink, Sam!"

"I _said, _I will go and get you some!"

"It's just as dangerous you going out, Sam. They probably have your photo on file right up next to mine. Just move. I'll be ten minutes."

"No, Dean."

Dean rose himself up to Sam.

"No?"

Sam glared at his brother. "Dean, you're not thinking clearly. Just wait here. I'm protecting you."

Dean laughed out loud. "Protecting me? Who do you think you're talking too? I've protected you your whole sodding life, Sam!"

"Then listen to me, just this once, Dean." Sam's eyes looked pleading. "Stay here."

Dean averted his eyes. He knew Sam was right. He knew that his own mind was clouded with far too much alcohol and worry. Yet he couldn't back down.

"What would Dad say, Dean?"

Dean looked sharply at Sam.

"Do you pray to Dad too, Sammy?"

Sam paused and then nodded.

"And Mom Is she on the list?"

Sam nodded, wordlessly.

"Yeah, well, good luck with that."

Dean regretted the mocking words as soon as they left his mouth.

Something inside Sam flipped.

"Listen...I need that hope. I _need _to believe I will see them again...that w_e'll _see them again."

Dean shook his head, "Dude, I'm sorry, I know...it's just...cabin fever talking y'know?"

"Whatever, Dean. I'll go get your beer." With that Sam swept towards the door, slamming it forcefully shut as he left.

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_Ahh, it's no fun writing arguments between the brothers :( Please review and then hopefully I can write a happier chapter soon! _


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